


The Night of Vampires

by operationmycroft



Series: Vampire Knight [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Vampire Knight
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Character Turned Into Vampire, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-20
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-05 10:18:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1814992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/operationmycroft/pseuds/operationmycroft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first, it’s all white and cold, it’s falling from the sky and the wind cuts. The snow falls tangling the cold dark curls atop the child’s head. He turns, there is a figure in the snow with dark clothing and red eyes.</p><p>“Are you lost, little boy? Your blood smells so good!” It says, dangerously low. It suddenly lunges forward gripping his head, the boy falls. Vampire. The boy thinks, panicked and frozen.</p><p>The tall auburn haired one comes out of nowhere, his eyes a glowing blue like the sun behind ice. It dies.</p><p>“A disgrace.” The velvet voice says. The snow turns red, dripping from colored fingers, darkening colored hair. The child stares into the pale, bright eyes until they fade to a cloudy day. They are hypnotizing. He bends, a hand reaches out, pale, thin and cool, the boy takes it.</p><p>(I GAVE UP-- SORRY)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Night of the Vampire

**Author's Note:**

> Heelloo. This is my first attempt at this kind of crossover and I'm replacing characters with other ones and it doesn't make a lot of sense so I'm sorry if this isn't great. Anyyywayyys, hope you like it.

At first, it’s all white and cold, it’s falling from the sky and the wind cuts. The snow falls tangling the cold dark curls atop the child’s head. He turns, there is a figure in the snow with dark clothing and red eyes.

“Are you lost, little boy? Your blood smells so good!” It says, dangerously low. It suddenly lunges forward gripping his head, the boy falls. Vampire. The boy thinks, panicked and frozen.

The tall auburn haired one comes out of nowhere, his eyes a glowing blue like the sun behind ice. It dies.

“A disgrace.” The velvet voice says. The snow turns red, dripping from colored fingers, darkening colored hair. The child stares into the pale, bright eyes until they fade to a cloudy day. They are hypnotizing. He bends, a hand reaches out, pale, thin and cool, the boy takes it.  

  


\--- 

  


The Watson Academy is one of the most prestigious in the country although it isn’t well known. The way the school is run is different than any others. There are day classes and night classes, only the smartest and most talented students ever are accepted into the night classes, they even have different uniforms, dark blue with a red tie. This is why, at dusk the girls from the Day Classes gather and swarm around the Night Classes’s dormitories.

“Back up.” Sherlock drawls, his short curls bouncing when a few of the younger girls push past him. “You know you’re not allowed in.” He says, projecting his utmost boredom.

“Oh hush. Just because you’re the Headmaster’s son doesn’t mean you get to be all high and mighty.” Says a first year, her name starts with an M… Molly, maybe.

“I am a prefect.” Sherlock smirks. He would actually rather be anywhere else, doing experiments, yelling at John. But the headmaster, Sherlock’s adopted father had asked. He was the only reason he could be here, anyways.

The loud sound of the doors creaking open broke him from his thoughts. The girls parted as the Night Class students walk out. Giggles and chatter fill the air. One of the more adventurous girls blow by him to see James up close. Sherlock steps to catch himself, only to be steadied by a pale hand.

“Are you quite alright, Sherlock?” Sherlock looks up suddenly to cool blue eyes and neat auburn hair, “Oh, Mycroft.” He pauses, “I’m... fine.” Mycroft saved him that night and had brought him to his now foster father, Martin Watson. In the background Sherlock can hear the other students, _That’s Mycroft, Mycroft Holmes. They say he’s the smartest student here. He’s gorgeous but so scary, it’s totally not fair!_

Mycroft frowns a little, “Have you had any nightmares?” He says eyes narrowing as he reaches up to brush some of the curls away. The blond soldier catches the hand before it reaches its destination.

“John!” Sherlock exclaims.

John turns to Mycroft, “Night classes are starting, _Mr. Holmes_.” He glares.

Mycroft hums, “Scary soldier. I’d best get along?” Then he smiles, his eyes chips of ice, and turns walking back to where the rest of the Night students are waiting.

“John, you’re late and what was that about?”

“Sherlock, really? It’s obvious. It’s none of my business if you like him but…they are different, dangerous.”

“I know what I’m doing.” The taller huffs.

\---

 

“Lord Holmes?” Mycroft turns, “Yes, Andrea?”

“Let me.” She says hands out for the book, he was carrying. “No, thank you.” The red-head smiles.

Andrea continues, “Lord Holmes, we all like living here, but don’t forget it is only by your orders, a Pureblood, that we obey the human rules, and only barely.”

“I know, Andrea,” Mycroft says as he dismisses her. “And I trust you to uphold them.”

 

\---

  
  


“It’s patrol duty tonight.” John tells Sherlock. “I’ll be taking the dorm areas.”

“Right.” Sherlock says, he has no intention of actually doing rounds instead he will be taking water samples from the fountain.

 

At the fountain he only stands by looking into the clear water. _He’s different, intelligent, like you. Maybe more so, but he is also very different, another creature-- albit one that saved your life._ His mind interrupted. _Not all of them are like that, remember._  Sherlock takes out a small plastic jar and collects his water sample. Turning he sees James and Sebastian. Two of the night class students, one with dark eyes like pits and dark hair and the other with sharp green eyes and platinum blond hair. “You smell niiiicee.” James says, lilt exaggerated and threatening. His eyes glow red. “You cut yourself.” At this his mouth widens into something resembling a smile, but it looks more like a showing of teeth and maybe it is because his fangs have grown. I must have bled into the water, cut myself on a rock. The dark haired vampire rushed forward catching his hand, it had a small abrasion on it. He draws it up to his face, biting lightly on the palm, a drop of blood leaked out. “Get off!” Sherlock spat, kicking out at his shin. “John!” He called, John came running holding out his gun. James dropped Sherlock’s hand.

“Come onnnn, it was just a bit of fun.” He smiled at John, “It was gooood though.”  John shot just above his head, the residue of magic staining the tree behind them black.

“Please put the gun away, Watson. It is very threatening to us.” Came a velvet voice. Mycroft strided down to the patio, “I will take care of James and Sebastian, actually, we will be going to the headmaster’s. Now, the gun?” It wasn't a question.

“Fine.” John placed it back into it’s holster.

“I hope you are alright, Sherlock?” Mycroft questioned.

“We're fine.” John said pulling Sherlock away.

 

\---

John knows Sherlock’s been cut before he calls out. _Sherlock’s blood. It’s intoxicating, why? Don’t. Stop. Fight it. You are not those pathetic beasts. They killed your family. They turned you._

 

\--

  
  



	2. Memories of Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gives in.

\--

The pills weren't working, he needed real blood not the artificial flavor and nutrients that came in the dry white pills. _Red. Wet. Warm._ He woke up nauseous and heaving. Disgusting.

 

\--

 

The next day at sunset, Sherlock and John are trying to hold back the students and struggling again. Mycroft glides by exuding calm and collected, “Good Morning, Sherlock.” He says as he passes low enough that only he can hear. Walking farther along he pauses, the rest of the group doing the same, and turns to John.

“Are you feeling quite well? You look a bit peckish.” He smiles like he knows the world’s secrets, it’s cruel. He continues, the night students waiting until he leads again.

John’s hand curls into a fist before he forces it open, “Do you want to test me? I’m ready, Mycroft!”

Sherlock’s eyes narrow. _What’s going on between Mycroft and John?_ Something seems wrong. Sherlock reminds himself to look into it.

\--

 

Even looking at Sherlock was impossible. His pale skin, long neck, colorful eyes and dark hair. John could feel his heart beat, feel it when it jumped whenever Mycroft was around. Jealousy like a snake curled in his abdomen making everything hurt. He needed it but he couldn’t take it. Wouldn’t.

 

Push him away.

 

Push...

 

\--

 

“Sherlock Watson, John Watson, What are you doing sleeping in class? Is being a prefect really that tiring?”

“Yes.” Sherlock mumbled.

“What was that?” The professor asked, annoyed.

“Yes, _Sir_.”

Sherlock got detention, so did John. John refused to talk to him.

\--

 

Mycroft Holmes was a pureblood vampire and while other strong vampires could control elements to suit their needs only purebloods could control the mind, and move objects to their will. He was one of the only true purebloods left and his powers were beginning to mannafest making them hard to control. Which is why after a destroyed set of lights and cutlery, he made his way to the headmasters office.

“Mycroft, how nice it is to see you.” Mr. Watson greeted.

“Thank you, Headmaster, although unfortunately this is not a social call. I haven’t interfered because I trust your judgement but, you cannot keep treating John like a normal student. He will ruin the peace between the classes, if you continue to let him wreak havoc.” The glass on the table shifted on the table, the fake blood coming dangerously close to spilling. They both looked at it.

He continued, “I have seen pitiful ends to human life, more than would make you sick. But you’ve seen many yourself haven’t you, Former Vampire Hunter.” Mycroft spoke words spilling into each other like silk blown in the wind. “He can never escape his fate, he was bitten by a pureblood and those who survive are Turned in the most excruciating way possible.”

The headmaster spoke, “You have inherited the blood and power of the Ancients. I will consider your request.”

Mycroft blinked.

“What is it?” the Headmaster questioned.

“The smell of blood…” He was out of the room before the headmaster could voice another question.

 

\--

After classes, Sherlock looked for John. He hadn’t gone to class that day and really campus wasn’t that big. He should be able to find him within an hour. John had been acting strangely, even Sherlock could tell that. He had been pushing him away, not talking, not complaining that Sherlock’s experiments smelled even though he had set up a mold lab just to get a reaction, it seemed like he didn’t even go back to their room. Sherlock found him crouched in a staircase, “John?” Sherlock called.

“What’s wrong? Have I done something wrong? You know I only did the mold lab so you could scold me for it.” He paused, stepping down the stairs. “I don’t really understand this stuff, so if you could tell me. I’ll try to fix it.” He stopped, waiting.

“Get away!” John’s voice came, desperate. _Blood pumping. Sweet. Different. Warm. Spill. Drink. Thirst._

Sherlock’s eyes widened, he had hoped that this wasn’t what he thought it was. He was being rejected again. It wasn’t worth it. He had failed again. He stepped back on instinct catching the last stair. That was when John lunged forward holding Sherlock to him. Biting his neck, his intoxicating blood flooded out. Sherlock was too shocked to move, John was a vampire. He had to believe it. _Pain. Fear. Numbing pain. Red._

Sherlock pushed, as the red glow faded from John’s eyes he came to himself.

“I’m sorry, Sherlock.”

 

 


	3. The Trigger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock, John and Mycroft deal with the reprecussions of John's drink.

“Sherlock?” Mycroft’s voice came floating down the stairs. He stepped down, each one dangerous, getting closer.

“My? Mycroft...” Sherlock said, voice fighting its way from his throat. He was lightheaded, loss too much blood. He looked at Mycroft. _Red hair, blue eyes, safe._

“So, John, you’ve become a mindless beast, lusting after Sherlock’s blood. ” He said, voice flat and more threatening that if he had yelled. He stepped in between them.

Sherlock gripped Mycroft’s sleeve. He couldn’t think, he could barely stand. He fell. Mycroft caught him, seemingly effortlessly. “You’ve drunk so much even Sherlock can not stand. Was it really so _delishious_?” At this the auburn haired vampire turned and walked up the stairs.

“Headmaster.” He said on the way passed Mr. Watson.

“Yes, I know.”

\--

 

Mycroft was kneeling in front of Sherlock, “It’s stopped bleeding. Although, it’s a deep bite.” Mr. Watson knocked on the door, “Would you mind going back to your classroom, Mycroft? The smell of blood has agitated the night students.”

Mycroft hummed, “Very well.” He reached out and touched the side of Sherlock’s face before going, as if checking he was still there, and strowed out.

 

The headmaster looked a little awkward, “I’m sorry you had to learn about John like this. I had hoped that someday he might have told you on his own...”

 

\---

 

The next day it was all that Sherlock could think about, John hated Vampires. His mother had probably died from one and his father had found someway to forgive them but John held the hared close to his heart. He probably even hated himself for giving in.

 

In the evening as he was walking to his dorm he heard Mycroft’s unmistakable voice, “You can’t keep him in Day Class forever, pretending this has not happened.” He half-turned feeling Sherlock’s presence but before he could say anymore he heard the fast click of shoes on the wooden floor. Sherlock was gone.

 

\---

 

Sherlock skipped class. It wasn’t an unusual notion although today he was not going out to experiment or to run away to town. He was going to the Moon Dormitory to find Mycroft and ask him a favor. The favor being to keep John in the Day Class. He must be hurting, Sherlock reasoned, but he couldn’t completely ignore the feeling that told him that wasn’t all it was. He would be alone if it wasn’t for John and he couldn’t lose him.

Sherlock crept in, climbing into a tree that stood next to the walls separating the Dorms from the rest of the campus. He may have gone through the normal way with only rank but he wasn’t going to risk it. He dropped down and opened the large double doors leading into the common room. James was lounging on the sofa with two nevious men across the coffee table, but no drinks adorned it. Sherlock caught a few sentences before the two men fell silent. “We need your services, it would pay handsomely we just need an answer quickly. There are rumors that you--” Moriarty stood cutting of the skinner and more nervous of the men.

“Sherlock... What brings you here in the daylight?” He said nearly pushing the men out of the dorms. “I’ve already been disturbed well into the day.” An arm curled around Sherlock’s waist as James’s voice dropped, sounding thick and honeyed. “Although, if you were coming here to offer me a bit moree of your blooood…”

“No.” Sherlock said, forcing calm into his voice as he shook off Jim’s arm. “I’m here to see Mycroft.”

Red flashed deep in James’s dark eyes, “What do you want with our dear old Mycroft anyways. You’re just a boring, ordinary _human_ yet he’s _interested_ in you.” He spat. “Why?”

“He saved my life from a Turned when I was young. That’s all!” Sherlock explained, forcefully.

A moment of surprise crossed James’s face before being buried in false politeness. “Oh so thatss what happened…” His voice had changed again, back to a soft and surgered tone that almost burned with it’s cloying sweetness. He reached out placing a hand on Sherlock’s neck. “In that case, he owns you. You should be begggging him to take your blood, your only real value.” He smiles that this, “You shouldn’t be offer it to anyone else... but you havvve haven’t you.” It was not a question. “Don’t let anyone take another drop.” He said popping the ‘p’. His grip tightened on the pale skin. “It’s not good manners giving away what isn’t yours. Keep it for him. And when he does take it, beggg him to take more. For only then will your debt be repaid.” Sherlock recoiled, as if breaking out a trance and brings back a hand to hurt, push, punch.

Mycroft caught Sherlock’s wrist. “Sherlock…” He warned. James gasped and Mycroft turned his full attention to James Moriarty, gray-blue eyes narrowed. Sherlock caught a glimpse of that look and shivered, unable to stop himself from being grateful that that look is not intended for him. Mycroft dropped Sherlock’s hand and backhanded James across the face. The two of them stand still, frozen in shock. Mycroft dropped his arm and Jim dropped to one knee. “Apologies, Lord Holmes. That was out of line.”

“Go.” James turned and stepped up the stairs, but before he was out of sight he threw a look of pure hatred at Sherlock.

Mycroft spoke again, “My sincerest apology for that unpleasant situation. You should not come here alone, you are... the one person who is different from the others that serve me.” His hand reached up, hesitant, he brushed the bite marks John made. Sherlock distantly wondered why that made him sound so lonely. Mycroft turned, “Now then, you have classes to attend.” He says as he walked toward the door. “If you must come here again, bring John. He owes you that much for what he stole from you.”

_From me?_   “I actually came here to request something. I’d like John to say in the Day Classes with me.” Something crosses Mycroft’s face, too quickly to read. “Unfortunately, I cannot grant that request even if it comes from you. Do you know why he bit you, Sherlock dear? Because he was hungry. All Turned will eventually go mad from it, no matter how much they drink it cannot quench their thirst. He has already had a taste of your blood, he will desire it again.”

\---

 

Sherlock wonders back to his dorms, the sun is setting. He is looking for John. John has to be back in their rooms right? He wouldn't move out yet. Not yet. Not now. Sherlock swings the door open, hoping but not expecting. This is why John’s presence alone would have affected Sherlock. It is John sitting on his bed with a gun to his head that pulls the air out of Sherlock’s lungs. Sherlock dashes forward tearing the gun from John’s steady hand. “What are you doing?” He says loud, panicked.

“I’m a monster, kill me! _Kill me_! Before I lose my mind, _please Sherlock_ …” John’s voice is broken and pleading. John holds the gun in Sherlock’s hand pointed toward his forehead. The words alone hurt Sherlock. “I-- I can’t.”

John snaps, “Then don’t bother with me!” He picks up his packed bag and nearly runs out of the room, stopped only by Sherlock’s quick and powerful grip. “Stop!”

Sherlock grabs John’s other sleeve. “Please John. Stop.” 


	4. Moonlight

“John, I know that I’m not always perfect. Well, quite a bit less than that but, I wanted you to know I’m there.” This was coming out _very_ sentimental. “I… I… could have deduced it from our childhood but I was blind to your suffering. I’m sorry.” Even if Mycroft won’t forgive me.

John dropped the bag. “Sherlock…it's okay.”

\---

 

Sherlock and John are called to the Headmasters office.

“This is an ancient spell used on the Turned before the humans created other... options, this ring and John’s scar work together to immobilize him. Use it if he gets out of hand. This is the only way for John to stay in the day class, Mycroft agreed. I suppose he took your request to heart, Sherlock.” Mr. Watson said seriously to Sherlock and John. “Now, test it out.” Sherlock put his hand up to John’s neck curiously, suddenly light flashed and John was on the ground pinned my light beams, or so it seemed to Sherlock. They were hard to look at. Fuzzy.

“Now, if you need blood. Take these.” Mr. Watson hands over, or more like places the blood pill pack on John’s chest. After a while John can move again, he grabs the pills and walks to the door.

“This is fine, Sherlock. Really.” As the doors close once again Mr. Watson speaks again.

“This might actually trick Sholto…”

\---

 

_Where is John?_ Sherlock thinks, as he walks the grounds looking for any student out of bed. _He must be skipping again, but after what happened this morning I don’t blame him._

Sherlock looked up though one of the Moon dorms, seeing Mycroft there back turned reading a book.

_‘Mycroft agreed. I suppose he took your request to heart.’_

“Mycroft…” He murmured.

_‘The one person who is different from the others’_

Sherlock shook himself out of the memory. “I’ll protect John, I’ve already decided that.” He walked away and Mycroft watched him go.

\---

 

For once something interesting happened in class and that just happened to be the new teacher James Sholto. Mr. Sholto they were quickly corrected. He was a vampire hunter as much as Sherlock could figure one side of his face was covered in burn scars but most of it was covered by a black eye patch. Sherlock turned to John to tell him his decisions but when he turned to tell him he found John’s face to be stricken with surprise and perhaps… fear? But before Sherlock could get out a word John got up and walked out of the classroom. Sherlock followed only to be stopped my Mr. Watson. “I’d like you to to go on an errand for me.”

\---

 

Back in the town things seemed almost back to normal, Sherlock spouted deductions John smiled for once and exclaimed his praise. John was of course carrying all the supplies for the Headmaster. On their way back a woman came up to John, “Are you from the Night Class at the Academy? Oh my goodness! You are, they are so smart and gorgeous too…” The woman kept talking and talking. John backed away slowly thoughts rushing, _I exude the same scent they do. Blood. Pumping. Red. Thirst._ He ran.

Sherlock followed but was soon blocked by the crowd, he rushed down an alley only to find he had lost him and in the process tearing his nice coat sleeve and so skin on a jagged metal railing. “Ah!” A shadowed figure came into the alley. Red eyes and shaunty gate. _A Turned._ “Your blood… smells nice.” The thing said, Sherlock froze memory sweeping him back to the white snow and blue eyes. It rushed forward, clawing at the air. Sherlock helpless again. John seemed to come from nowhere gun out he smacked the steel on the things hand driving it back with a burn. It hissed. A sword swept through the air cutting effortlessly through the Turned. Behind it were Andrea and James.

“I didn’t even need to be heerree.” James complained. “Hush,” Andrea replied, “our work here is done.”

“What are you two doing here?”

“Come to the Moon dormitory if you want to find out, Sherlock.” Andrea invited.

\---

 

John was waiting outside of the dormitories, _I should have known._ “You can’t stop me, John.”

“I know, I’m going with you. And I want to give you this.” He handed over a pistol, it’s an anti-vampire weapon. _Oh_.

“The night class isn’t that bad!”

“No, I want you to use it on me… if the “human” part of me ever disappears.” John said, eyes downcast and voice soft.

“I don’t need that if have the spell Mr. Watson showed us!”

“It will only last so long… and after today you should know that one day that time will come.”

Sherlock for once was speechless. “Fine... I’ll accept it but first promise me you will do everything you can to fight against changing. Promise me.”

“I promise.”

\---

 

Inside the Moon dormitory grounds they were met with Andrea and Sebastian. The four of them walked through the gardens candles were lit along the pathway and were littered with vampires holding classes of pink liquid, blood pills. They came to the main table laden with food untouched James met them there, “Hellllo, everyone. Welcome to my birthday party. He walked straight up to Sherlock and whispered “I don’t really want any of the guests here but it’s reputation. So. Boring.”

Sherlock made face but simply asked why they killed the Turned.

“Sherlock, Sherlock. You must understand there are different classes of vampire. Our society is ruled by a few Purebloods and aristocrats. Everyone in the night class is at least a noble below that are the normal vampires but below even them are the Turned, the once human. So pleeeaaase don’t lump us together it’s rather offensive.”

“That’s not very fair, they didn’t want to be Turned!” Sherlock broke in.

“And that is why, Sherly, we look after them, until they start to murder and drink innocents.”

“I ordered it.” Mycroft began from the steps of the dorms, the whole place falling silent when he spoke only to break out in whispers when he stopped. “But I’m surprised, Sherlock, that you would come to this dangerous place simply because Andrea told you to.”

“I wanted to find out for myself.” Sherlock said petulantly, but he couldn’t help noticing now good Mycroft looked in his black pinstripe suit and waistcoat ensemble. It made his eyes look even more blue.

“Come over here, Sherlock… and John.” He went to sit on a reserved couch there where no other seats, pureblood right.

“Sherlock, come, sit next to me.” A few gasps, poorly hidden came from the now crowd of vampires.

“Umm… I don’t think--”

“ _Sherlock_.” He said in _that_ voice, the one that spoke of power untold. Sherlock sat, as John stood awkwardly in the corner. “It’s safest here, next to me. You know, they shouldn’t have even been born. It was only in the darkest part of the war when many humans were forced to the other side for ‘military power’ that the Turned were created. From then on any vampire who ranked noble or higher had the responsibility to look after these creatures. And sometimes, this means ending their lives.”

“And it is the duty of the Vampire Hunter to hunt vampires.” John burst in coming closer.

“Then why didn’t you kill that Turned first?” Mycroft replied, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips. He reached for Sherlock’s arm, “Is this an injury you sustained?” Sherlock only nodded, the railing. “I will take the pain away.” He bowed his head to kiss the cut. Magic welled up and the air shimmered around his skin, the pain was gone. Mycroft looked up at John. “Perhaps, you sympathized with the thirst, John? John wipped out his gun and Andrea appeared, blood red fingernails at John’s throat. “Andrea, it’s alright. I was out of turn.”

“You would have been torn limb from limb for that crime if we were not here. Do not forget that vampires are only at the Academy because Mycroft, Pureblood, Head of the Holmes line, is here as well.” She hissed.

\---

 

The headmaster and the new teacher sit in his office. “It’s been four years… I never expected to see him alive.” Mr. Sholto said looking at a photograph of John and Sherlock. The other one is Sherlock he’s quite intelligent. I’ve given them both the responsibility of looking after night class.”

“A Turned wandered into town today.” Sholto commented.

“Did you do your job?”

“No, someone beat me to it.”

“I wonder who...”

“Don’t give me that. I know it was someone from the night class. They call it duty but, the see it as a sport.”

“Why are you here anyways, it’s not like you ever listen to what the Hunters Society say?”

“For the oath we made of course.”

\---

 

_Blood. Vampires. Red._ John ran unable to keep the cravings from turning him. Sherlock followed, the air with thick. He found John by the pool, he was crumpled, heaving. Blood pills scattered across the stone.

“Are you okay?” Sherlock rushed toward him, down to see his face. _Red eyes._

He froze.

“It’s no use, I’ve tried so many times to drink it. I can’t.” John rasped. “Sherlock. Get. Away.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s all fine.” Sherlock said quietly.

John pushed them both into the water, calm, quiet. He came to himself. They broke the water for air. John was shot.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOC again but what can ya do. No beta so... Anyways I bet you all thought this was abandoned. Ha, nope.


End file.
